MILES POV
My heartbeat pounded tirelessly against my chest, my mouth slightly opened, to catch my breath.
My feet slam against the ground—too loud, too heavy. The forest stretches endlessly ahead, trees blurring into shadows. Branches claw at my arms, tearing skin, but I don't feel the pain. Not really.
Something follows me, I don't turn back.
The sound of it—wrong. Not footsteps. Not human. Faster than me, getting closer.
"Don't stop." The wind whispers.
My lungs burn, vision flickers. The moon hangs above, distant… then farther… then impossibly far, like it's running from me too.
A scream rips through the dark.
I snap back and suddenly,my feet sink.
The ground beneath me disappears into water, my movements– too slow to swim. I gasp for air, for survival.
"Help." I whisper through the dark.
I fell to the ground. My wet body against the cold dusty ground.
I look up and she's there again, her red hair pulled upwards. A bloody crown rested on her head.
"Time is running out, they're almost here." Her whisper cuts through the dark.
"Hurry Miles!"
The alarm blared loudly, penetrating into my ears.
I jerk up awake, my chest rising and falling in an uneven manner. My lungs hungry for more air, I clutch my chest slowly calming my rapidly beating heart.
A systematic voice said over the speaker.
"All units report to their duty post."
My eyes met with Jeff, my roommate. Dressed fully in his uniform, dark green with red wings engraved on the chest.
"You did it again miles." He said in a voice that sounded like a tired groan, his face pale, his eyelids grew heavier with each blink.
"Sorry." I groan.
"It's becoming creepy… I think you should get yourself checked out before the others start complaining." His words drained from emotions as he pulled out his rifle from the locker and matched outside.
A frustrating sigh escaped my lips, my eyes turned to the sleeping pills littered on the table. A writing inscribed on it, 'Ominizode,the best you can get.'
The best, my foot… I should've known better than to trust any product from sector 4.
Fourth time this week, same meaningless bullshit dream. I firmly planted my feet on the ground and headed to the shower.
I quickly took my bath and headed to my locker, my hands reaching for my uniform and something else followed it out landing softly on the ground.
An old compass, the only thing I only ever remember inheriting along with a name. My eyes shifted to the name tag stitched on the chest of my uniform.
An urge overwhelmed me to take the compass along with me today. So I did, stuffing inside the pockets of my trousers.
I start with the jacket.
The sleeve catches on my wrist where the stitching came loose. I pull it anyway, It holds. It always does—barely.
The fabric is stiff. I scrubbed the blood out last night, but it never really leaves. Just fades into something darker.
Good enough.
Someone's coughing outside.I pause, one button left.
Wait for it to stop, It doesn't so I finish the button.
No point waiting.My boots are by the door. One of the soles is peeling off again. I press it back into place like that'll fix it.
It won't.
Nothing does anymore.
The air outside hits different when I open the door. Not fresh. Not rot. Just… thicker.
I step out anyway, as always.
The entire sector is already awake, if you can call it that.
No one talks much anymore.
Just movement. Slow, careful.
Like everyone's trying not to break something inside themselves.
I pass the well. A woman stares into her bucket like she's expecting clean water this time.
She won't get it, she never does. But she still does it anyway.
I keep walking.
The elder's house is on my left.I almost pass it…Almost.
The door's open.
It's always open now.
His wife is inside, stirring a pot. There's nothing in it. I know there's nothing in it. She still stirs like she's waiting for it to become something else.
She sees me and smiles.
I don't know how she still does that.
"Heading out?" she asks.
I nod.
My voice would make it real.
One of the kids is lying down. Chest rising, slow, Still breathing.
That's something.
The other one is awake, watching me. Doesn't blink. I look away first, I always do.
I adjust the rifle on my shoulder and step back outside.
The air heavy with chemicals carrying a burnt taste with it, nothing fresh about them.
It's quieter than yesterday.
Or maybe there's just fewer people left to make noise.
I climb onto the back of the patrol vehicle, the engine starts and it begins to drive. Further to the gates, away from here… from this.
Finally it stops at the gate.
Gradually I make my way upstairs to the top of the patrol station, my footsteps echoing along the way.
A shadow grabs me sideways before I could react and slams me to the ground. Laughter breaks out.
"A point for Dylan!" Noah's chuckles cut through the air as Dylan celebrates, showing off his muscles. Noah sits across with a beer bottle in his hands, I still don't know how he manages to get those.
I force myself to my feet, a low grumble escapes me.
"Someone's in a mood." Noah teases.
"Jack Frost isn't feeling all frosty today?" Dylan adds as they both laugh.
"Cut it out you two." A soft voice interrupts from behind– Ava, her hands resting on my shoulders. She looks up at me, her sharp brown eyes filled with concern.
"Are you okay Miles."
I nod.
"I guess so." I added.
We took our seats at the chairs in the corner, and someone else walked in. Shawn.
My eyes scan the camp before I can stop them.
Same broken fences. Same half-dead fires. Same people pretending everything's fine.
Shawn lets out a low whistle.
"Jesus Christ, Miles… you look like a ghost."
I let out a dry breath.
"I feel like one."
That earns me a look. Not the joking kind.
Noah leans forward a little.
"Still having those dreams?"
I nod.
The bottle in my hand is colder than it should be. The glass bites into my palm, grounding me.
"Every night," I mutter. "Same ending."
I stare into the bottle like it might show it to me again.
"A girl. Red haired. She jumps in front of me like she's trying to stop me from walking into something."
A pause.
"She keeps warning me… I just can't hear what she's saying."
There's a beat. Then…
"Yeah, but is she hot though?" Noah says.
Shawn snorts, leaning back.
"Hey, it fits. Pale face, light hair… man's turning into some discount Jack Frost."
They laugh, I don't.
The sound feels wrong out here. The silence– too loud. Like it doesn't belong anymore.
I grunt and push myself up, turning away from them. The land stretches out in front of me.
Cracked.
Split open like something tried to claw its way out from underneath.
Dry enough that even the wind sounds brittle.
It carries dust with it. I can taste it before I even breathe in.
There are tracks out there too.
Not ours.Too deep, too wide.
I take a slow sip from the bottle.
"I don't know…" I say quietly. "Something feels off."
The wind picks up, dragging across the ground like a warning no one wants to hear.
"What if they're real?" I add.
"What if they're back?"
The laughter behind me dies. Good.
At least I'm not the only one thinking about it now.
"That's bullshit," Dylan cuts in.
I hear his boots before I feel him beside me.
"The Sentinels?" he continues. "That's just council garbage. Stories to keep people scared enough to pay up taxes."
He steps closer, following my gaze out into the wasteland.
"You really think there are things out there hunting people?" he scoffs. "And even if there were…"
"It was years ago, we're the ones hunting ourselves now Miles."
His hand lands on my shoulder.
Solid…Real.
"It's just dreams, Miles," he says, quieter now. "You've probably breathed in too much of this crap air."
I don't answer.
I'm still staring at the tracks.
The wind shifts.
For a second, I could swear they smell fresh.
"You need to rest, miles." Ava says softly, guiding me to the ground to lay down.
My head rested steadily on her soft laps, her hands ran through my hairs. Slow, gentle. Peaceful.
My eyes closed off slowly and with the next blink, my vision darkens.
My boots sink to the ground, a wet, bloody river.
Filled with Bodies. Dead bodies.
In the distance she's there again, her white dress soaked with blood.
"Wait." I called out.
Then the distance closes between us in a flash.
"You're too late." Her voice trembles, like it might break before the words finish.
"They're already here." Her head snapped backwards.
"Who?" I asked.
Her eyes locked onto mine again. Wilder.
"There's no time, find me." Her breath rises in an uneven manner.
"Who are you?"
She grabs both my arms, tightly wrapping her hands around my wrists.
"Wake up Miles!"
I jerk up, sirens blaring widely and uncontrollably.
Hastened footsteps stomping against the steel ramp, gunshots rang out in the distance.
A robotic voice cut through the wind.
"Attack! Attack!... Sector 4 is under breach. Sentinel presence confirmed!."
Another shot rang out, closer this time.